Player(61)

He nodded, impressed. “On merit alone. Not only rare, but difficult. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. Finding subs has been interesting. I’m terrified to choose someone inadvertently who’s better than me. One cold, and I could be out of a job.”

Adam smiled. “Well, if you were good enough to earn the chair, I’m betting they’d be hard-pressed to find someone better.”

I laughed. “Oh, I doubt that, but thank you for the vote of support. What about you? Sam didn’t tell me what you do.”

At that, he smiled, the genuine smile of a man who loved his job. “I teach elementary school music.”

My insides melted, and my face melted with it. “Oh my God,” I cooed. “Are you serious?”

“Serious as a number two pencil.” He leaned in and said conspiratorially, “In case you didn’t know, those pencils are very serious. Ask any Scantron.”

I laughed, settling back in my seat as he continued.

“Best job in the world. I don’t think I have a single student who hates my class. Do you know how impossible that average is? Ask any teacher and they’ll tell you.”

“I believe you. It’s almost impossible to hate music.”

“I’m with you. But you’d be surprised at how many kids hate it. When you don’t have rhythm or are tone deaf, music class is only a reminder of a failure. So I do whatever I can to make sure those kids find something to love.”

Seriously, my insides were about as solid as nougat in the backseat of a Jetta in August.

He smiled. “Anyway, almost everything I do involves music somehow. I even compose in my spare time.”

I brightened up. “Oh! Have you and Sam ever written anything together?”

His brows quirked in confusion. “Sam? No, as far as I know, he doesn’t write music. Although I’ve never seen anyone pick it up like he did. He made all of us look like idiots in composition class. Thank God he didn’t decide to go that direction. I’d never live down my inadequacies.”

I smiled to cover the truth, not wanting to betray Sam’s secrets, not having realized they were secrets to begin with.

“So, shaper of young minds during the day, composer by night. What else do you do?”

“I love to read. Is that dorky of me to say?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Uh, no. Absolutely not. You should tell every woman you meet how much you love to read.”

He laughed.

“I mean it. Put a picture of your bookshelves on Tinder and see how many hits you get. Mention the fact that you teach elementary school and watch all their panties combust.”

Adam’s eyes twinkled as he leaned on the table, angling toward me. “Sam was right.”

“Right about what?”

“You’re pretty amazing. I’m glad you came, Val.”

I smiled, wishing I weren’t lying when I said, “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”



Sam

This is fine.

I turned on my heel and paced across the room again, raking my hand through my hair.

Fine, perfectly fine.

Val was on a date. With a great guy. Who would treat her right.

Fine.

On paper, he was perfect. On paper, he was the guy. The guy who would give her everything she needed, everything she could possibly want.

This was exactly what should be happening. Val knew everything she needed to know. Lessons complete. I’d hung up my chalkboard and sent her out on her own. Everything was just as it should be.

I turned again, chugging across the room, my legs eating the distance at a distressing rate. Nerves scratched at my skin from the inside, metallic and abrading. The urge to take off running and sprint until I collapsed overcame me.

Fine, fine, fine.

I’d texted her to make her feel better.

I’d texted her to make me feel better.

I didn’t know what I’d expected. I thought I’d been looking for reassurance, a sign I’d done the right thing. I thought maybe I’d miraculously feel some sort of relief at talking to her before her date.

Wrong.

Somehow, I felt infinitely worse.

She was sitting across from him right now. I knew the restaurant well—I’d fucking suggested it. I’d have chosen the table by the window where the lighting was best and you could see the city. She’d be sitting there in the low light with some romantic acoustic bullshit playing on the speakers, laughing at something he’d said. He’d touch her hand. Tell her she was beautiful. They’d kiss, his hand on her cheek, her fingers on his chest. He’d pull her close, feel the curves of her body against him.

Sheer and absolute abhorrence ripped through me, tore me open, left my guts on the floor of my music room.

He’ll take her upstairs, my masochistic mind continued, undress her. He’ll taste her and have her.

And you just taught her how to give blowjobs.

I stopped in the middle of the room, my lungs in a vise and my heart locked in an iron maiden.

He’s going to get your blowjobs.

My dinner charged up my esophagus.

He’s going to get her sighs. Her kisses. Her laughter. He’s going to get her smiles.

I willed my feet to move. They carried me toward the door.

He’s going to get all of her, my mind said.